


in dependence

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: Sometimes Koutarou hates himself so much that it's impossible to see why others don't. Keiji and Tetsurou wait out the storm of emotion with him.





	in dependence

**Author's Note:**

> this is a cathartic, self-indulgent fic, and a love letter to dicaeopolis and decidueye; you wait out the storm with me, and you make me feel just as loved as kuroaka make bokuto feel.

It's not that Tetsurou and Keiji complete you. You have existed without them before, and you can do it again if you have to, but it would be a dreary, half-hearted life.

That doesn't mean that they complete you. That doesn't mean you're dependent.

It's like this: you are a pollution. An oil spill. You leak grease and leech energy and you leave stains and negativity behind you like morsels of bread for people to follow. And Tetsurou and Keiji do follow. And they clean up after you, without even noticing that's what they're doing. They say, _thank you._ They say, _you're a good person._

Some days, it's easy to believe them. Other days, it's impossible.

It's like this: a parasite cannot choose the nature of its relationship. It cannot wake up one day and decide to be mutualistic or symbiotic.

It's like this: you have no light of your own. You can only shine through stealing others’.

“Bad day, huh?”

The couch shifts under you, the only warning you have before a warm, solid arm spreads across your shoulders and pulls you into a chest. “‘S fine,” you mumble.

You can't see. The world was dark, so you decided to make it dark by choice at the very least, and now you find that your hand is too heavy to move from your face. "Mhm," Tetsurou says. "I can tell."

"Fuck off."

"Oh, it's _that_ fine, I see, I see." Tetsurou pauses. The couch dips again as he rearranges himself. "Do you wanna be alone?"

You take a deep, slow breath and then shake your head. The only thing worse than being around someone is being alone.

"Do you want Keiji here instead?"

Sometimes Tetsurou thinks Keiji is better at these kinds of situations. As if you're secretly ranking them behind their back, tallying points - _this time Keiji touched my back, plus ten points, this time Tetsurou tried to make me laugh and it didn't work, minus fifty points..._ But you don't work like that.

And you're not dependent on either of them. "If you don't wanna be here, just go. I'll be fine."

"Koutarou, look at me," Tetsurou says, but your hand is an anchor and a shield. You cannot move it. "I wanna be here, okay? I was just asking."

"I don't - I don't - maybe you should go," you say, because that's what you should say, and Tetsurou is still touching you. He's going to have to throw those clothes out afterwards. Oil stains never wash out. "I'll be fine - I'm fine, you know, it's just - just need a minute, the - don't wanna keep you -"

"I live here," Tetsurou interrupts, and he's angry, you can hear that he's angry, and your palm is turning wet, and you're ruining his day. All you want to do is make him happy, but your pathetic need for attention led you to sit in the living room and spread your poisonous sadness, and now you've ruined his day and Keiji's too, when they come home. You can't do anything right.

Tetsurou doesn't like it when you apologise for existing, but that's all you want to do; apologise for the space you're filling, the leaking and the leeching and the taking that you do.

"Hey - hey, Koutarou, it's okay..."

"It's _not,"_ and your voice breaks like you're sixteen and coming out to your parents all over again, and Tetsurou sighs and pulls you closer, and he's annoyed, he's annoyed, he's annoyed - it's official, you are the worst piece of shit ever to exist.

"Tell me what you're thinking, please," he says quietly, but you don't want to, you can't, there aren't words for what you're thinking, and if you tell him about the parasites or the oil he'd think you were stupid, off on one of your incomprehensible trains of thought that are amusing to watch but only for their nonsensicality, and you don't want to do that, you don't want to hear that.

So you remain silent, throat constricting. Your hand has become a dam.

Tetsurou sighs again. You want to spontaneously combust, or to disappear like you'd never existed in the first place.

"'m not dependent on you," you say, because that's important, that's important for him to know. "If you - if you left, I'd be okay - eventually, I promise. You shouldn't - that shouldn't stop you from leaving."

"Koutarou," Tetsurou says, inhaling, "I don't want to leave. What made you think that I want to leave?"

You can't answer, too much is bubbling in your throat at once, and he pulls you closer and lets you curl into his chest, even though you're too big and you must look so fucking stupid, and you always think about that, how stupid you look, how clumsy and unnatural.

“I wanna be here, okay?” He’s speaking quietly but firmly, his voice forcing itself in through the gaps of your mud-and-brick walls. “I wanna be with you, and live with you. You make me so happy, even when you have bad days.”

“Shut _up,”_ you say. Tetsurou can definitely hear that you’re crying now. “You’re stupid, then -”

“You think I’m stupid?” Tetsurou asks. “Koutarou. Do you think I’m stupid?”

You swallow. “No,” you press out. The word hurts.

“Yeah. I’m not stupid. I’m pretty smart, actually. So I know what I’m doing. And being with you isn’t stupid.”

“It _is -”_

 _“No,_ Koutarou, it’s not!”

You flinch, hiding your face in his chest.

“Shit - shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my temper. It’s just hard, you know that, it’s harder for you than any of us.”

“It’s not, don’t be stupid,” you mutter. Tetsurou sighs.

“Well, it’s certainly not… easy for you. You’re in pain.”

You don’t know if that’s true. What you’re feeling is too overwhelming, too big for a neat label like that.

“Will you let me see you?” Tetsurou asks you. He can be so gentle that it burns your throat and brings new tears to you eyes, and now is no exception - but shame keeps you pinned in place, unmoving.

Tetsurou runs his fingers through your unwashed hair. He must be disappointed.

You are, every second of every day. At least right now.

“Keiji will be home soon,” Tetsurou says after a long pause. He’s still touching your hair. “Do you want me to tell them to bring anything?”

You shake your head, then inhale deeply and unsteadily. Stop _fucking_ crying. “Warn ‘em, maybe.”

“Warn them? Of what?”

“That I’m… like this.”

“Sad?”

That sounds like an accusation. Your tongue has started hurting too, the pressure from your throat and jaw spreading until it renders you incapable of speaking. Soon, but not yet. “Troublesome.”

Tetsurou sighs. “I’ll message them,” he says, moving away - you flinch and pull away too, but he brings you back into his chest immediately. “Just needed to get my phone, sweetheart. Anyway, I’m just telling them what’s up, okay? You know they don’t deal well with surprises. Remember that time we tried to surprise them for their birthday? With secret food sex?”

You laugh, a wet, hiccuping sound that eases your jaw ever so slightly.

“They made us sleep on the couch,” Tetsurou continues. “Remember?” Your brain is full of holes and leaks, so you lose time and forget easily, but this you remember. Even so, Tetsurou’s smooth retelling is gentling the ache in your chest, distracting you enough to keep you from prying old wounds open again. “I love you more than basically anything, but sharing this couch with you was the worst. I don’t think I got any sleep at all, ‘cause we were so squished.”

“Me neither,” you protest half-heartedly. “You’re too bony. Kept pokin’ me.”

“But we snuck back in… what was it, at four AM or something? And Keiji let us sleep with them anyway, even though we ruined their birthday.”

Tetsurou’s hand goes through your hair again and again, slow and steady, with the surety of the breaths he takes.

“We made a bad judgment call. But our intentions weren’t bad, and they forgave us.”

“I miss them,” you say.

“They’ll be home soon. You remember that we live together, right? All three of us?”

You snort, gathering the pride and energy to sit up and wipe your face aggressively. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Tetsurou says, his hand falling to curl gently around the back of your neck, thumb rubbing over the top of your spine.

There are times that you forget stuff like that. There are times worse than this - even though that feels like it can’t possibly be true.

The door flies open and Keiji steps through, graceless and hurried. You lift your gaze to meet theirs, and the sight of their face makes the glass shards in your skull dig deeper - they look stricken, pained, stare so intense you can only hold it for half a second. “Koutarou,” they breathe, taking off their jacket and shoes in a single motion. They step up to the couch and fall to their knees in front of you, cupping your face with winter-cold hands. “Sweetheart, will you look at me?”

The endearment beats at the tattered dam of your throat until it finally breaks free, and you curl forward and sob, hands desperately clutching at Tetsurou and Keiji both.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re here,” Tetsurou says, quiet and soothing. “Keiji’s happy to see you, see?”

“No,” and you’re shaking like a leaf or a struck chord, “no, no, no -”

“Keiji,” Tetsurou interrupts, squeezing the back of your neck gently, “do you forgive Kou for not being happy all the time?”

“What? Of course,” Keiji replies, voice raw. You press your face into their stomach as you cry.

“We were talking about that time on your birthday, remember that, when you made us sleep on the couch?”

“Tetsurou… Yeah. I remember. I also remember you not staying there.”

“We missed you,” Tetsurou says.

You’re falling quiet, pressed between them, barely a person anymore, just a bundle of tears and nerves and shivers.

“I missed you too, that night,” Keiji sighs after a moment. “I really didn’t think I would… but I did.”

“Because you love us.”

“Because I love you. And I’ve gotten used to you - both of you - being in my life. And in my bed.” Keiji grips your bicep tightly, squeezing. “I don’t want to live without you.”

“Even if we do silly things?” Tetsurou asks.

Keiji snorts. “I knew what I was getting into,” they say. “I love you even when you do stupid things because you think they’re funny. And I love you when you feel things that you can’t help.”

“‘M sorry,” you mumble into their shirt. “‘M really sorry, Keiji.”

“I forgive you, Koutarou. It’s okay.”

“See?” Tetsurou speaks lightly, ruffling your hair. You’re still hiding, you’re still barely a person, but maybe you can come out of the shade soon. “We love you.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Keiji asks. You swallow, shake your head and press further into them again.

“Just… being bad. Head’s bad.”

“Okay,” Keiji says, waiting.

You take a deep breath. “‘S stupid, um, there was - I was just gonna watch some TV while I waited, and… there was this - I don’t even remember what it’s called, but there was a guy on it, and he was… telling this girl that she shouldn’t expect him to complete her, and he didn’t want to be with someone who depended on him, and… and that kind of stuff.”

Tetsurou hums, thumbing the back of your neck. You sit up a little so it’s easier to hear you - just enough to free your mouth, not enough for anyone to see your face. That’s still too much.

“‘N I was just kinda like… oh, shit, that’s - that’s me, I do - I do that, ‘n it’s bad, but I _don’t,_ I’d be okay if you guys left, I just - I really, really, really don’t want it, but maybe it would be better, right, if I - since I’m -”

“No.”

Keiji touches your jaw again, pulling you up enough that you can rest it on their shoulder.

“This is good. This is what I want. I want to be with you.”

Tetsurou moves, pressing up against your side, and you can hear the brief sound of him kissing Keiji’s cheek as their heads meet over you. “Me too, Kou. It wouldn’t be better, alright? I’m smart, so I’d know. Or Keiji would know, ‘cause they’re smart too. Point is, one of us would definitely know if this wasn’t the right thing. But it is.”

“Fuck off,” you mumble wetly into their shoulder, exhausted now that the raging storm in your body is finally calming. “You’ll make me cry again.”

“I don’t care,” Tetsurou says simply. “It’s the truth.”

“I just -” you inhale, hold the breath in your lungs like you’ve been taught, exhale it slowly. “I really hate myself sometimes.”

Keiji is still, but Tetsurou flinches, a stuttering reaction on your behalf. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “But no one else does.”

You swallow, hold your breath.

“This is the right thing,” Keiji says finally, slow and measured, like they want you to time your heartbeat to their words. “Whether it’s a bad day or a good day - that doesn’t matter. It’s still the right thing.”

You exhale. “Okay.”


End file.
